Create, Pitch, Sell

New covers for THE CAJUN GIRL books were recently uploaded to all venues.I signed up for a promotional event for THE CAJUN GIRL: Part 1 that was set to run on the 8th of this month. For some reason it did not. The book wasn't featured anywhere. I'm glad I didn't have to pay them. I'm not glad I waited a week and a half for nothing. Live and learn, and don't ever use them again.I've made a list of other promo sites for TCG 1. The list has been evenly divided so that it will cover the next five months.My day job is still depressing.I'm working on new stories for the New Year.

The new mystery series has been outlined. Characters were named and assigned a role. I’m hiring an ebook cover designer. The books won’t be available until all the stories have been written and all the covers have been made. Afterward, I’m submitting them to Amazon’s CreateSpace so I’ll also have paperback copies.However...I just discovered Amazon Storywriter. Right away I knew I wanted to use this free service to adapt one of my novels to a screenplay. I very much wanted to do this a couple of years ago, but I couldn’t get the hang of it. Storywriter does my thinking (and formatting) for me.I’m anxious to begin.

I am spending more time writing this year, less time with social media. I've begun the first in a series of novellas based on characters from my Point Jove books (CAPTIVITY, BETRAYAL, PAYBACK, KILLING SUMMER).

She survived a horrific childhood only to wind up trapped in a bitter, loveless marriage. Determined to find independence BJ Donovan, a French Quarter restaurateur, pens a work of fiction. Her book is a hit. But not for long. While interest in her debut crime novel continues to wane she comes up with a plan for how to top the bestseller list again. Using her position as a young executive chef to blend in with the community she embarks on a killing spree, by means of witchcraft, and uses details of the murders to begin the first book in a thriller series.

Excerpt from Chapter One:
Virgil awoke late at night to find his wife gone. He kicked off cold and clammy bedcovers, box springs screeched when he got up. A steady breeze, weighed down with humidity, carried the vanilla-like fragrance of Joe-Pye weed and the barely audible sound of laughter through an open window. He stood behind fluttering white sheers and watched Marie trot across the back yard, her long black curls bouncing with each footfall. The opaque security light above the barn doors cast an eerie pallor through the limbs of an old elm draped with Spanish moss. He noticed her belly, in the narrow space between her shirt and shorts, seemed rounder than normal. He lazily scratched his ass, wondered what the hell she’s doing.

A recognized tournament is coming to Redmoon Lake. If word gets out that an abnormally large alligator gar has not only taken over the lake it has taken someone’s life the event would surely be called off. More than likely it would never be rescheduled. The members of an amateur anglers fishing club plan to take matters into their own hands.

Excerpt:
Lee Jackson, a thirteen-year-old budding geologist, moved farther away from his younger brother and the shoreline, as he continued on his quest to find more rocks and gemstones to add to his growing collection. “Chal-ced-o-ny.” He pulled a spiral tablet from his hip pocket. Flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. “Yep. Chalcedony. Includes many varieties of, um, crypto-crys-tal-line... cryptocrystalline quartz gemstones.” He stuffed the tablet in his pocket. Following a worn trail around a curve he glanced back in time to see his brother, Tate, casting his line into the water.

A woman is left homeless after a fire destroys her apartment building in New Orleans, Louisiana. At the same time, a severe thunderstorm warning is issued. Trying to get out of the city at night in a downpour while caught in heavy traffic she makes a wrong turn. Evelyn finds a farmhouse by accident. About to knock and ask directions, the door creaks open.

Excerpt:
The old dark house stood alone on the right side of a dirt road. Power lines came down when severe thunderstorms tore through southern Louisiana earlier in the day. She got a flashlight from the trunk of her car, and climbed the steps to the wraparound porch. A cool breeze rippled her T-shirt. Lightning cast her elongated shadow onto the door. About to knock and ask directions, the door creaked open. Evelyn backed up. A wind gust whipped her long hair in a frenzy. She took a deep breath and quickly exhaled. “Hello?” she called out in a soft tone, nudging the door open wider with the flashlight.